


imagine a world like that

by santiagoswagger



Category: Brooklyn Nine-Nine (TV)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Domestic Fluff, Early Relationship, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Pre-Relationship, prompts from my 1.5k follower celebration!
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-24
Updated: 2019-04-18
Packaged: 2019-09-26 15:06:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 7,180
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17144012
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/santiagoswagger/pseuds/santiagoswagger
Summary: A series of Jake/Amy one-shots, based ontumblrprompts!





	1. "He's a bad kisser."

**Author's Note:**

> Work title from "Imagine" by Ariana Grande.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt from @proofthatihaveaheart on tumblr!

The crowd at Shaw’s was slowly dwindling, but Amy wasn’t ready to leave just yet. 

Dancing in her seat to the heavily auto-tuned pop song Gina had selected on the jukebox before making her exit, Amy reached behind the bar and grabbed a shot of whiskey meant for someone else, downing it all in one. She’d just solved a tough kidnapping and she figured she deserved a fun night out. She tilted backwards as she drank, gravity escaping her as she slid around on her stool.

“Woah, slow down, Santiago.” He appeared out of nowhere, steadying her with a firm yet gentle hand on her waist. “How much have you had to drink?”

Amy slammed the empty shot glass down and swiveled in her seat to look up at Jake. His brow was furrowed with what looked like genuine concern. She was acutely aware of the fact that his hand remained glued to her waist, and the top of her ears began to heat up. 

Ever since the squad had met Six Drink Amy at their detectives’ only getaway, Jake had been extra vigilant with her when they all went out on Friday nights, though he would deny it the next day when they were sober. His overprotection would have been cute if Amy still had feelings for him, which she _definitely_ did not. 

“Don’t be such a narc, Peralta,” she said rolling her eyes affectionately, her entire body swaying with the effort. 

He gasped dramatically, putting a hand to his chest in offense. “How dare you, Amy! I’m supposed to be the cool one in this partnership!” 

Amy smiled and let a small chuckle escape her. “I wouldn’t call you ‘cool’,” she said, slurring her words slightly and attempting to do air quotes with her fingers. 

Jake grinned mischievously and Amy leaned in. He was magnetic. “And how was your Sudoku cruise last summer, Santiago?” 

“Point taken,” she said, eyes fluttering flirtatiously. Four Drink Amy had officially entered the building, but so had Teddy Wells. 

Jake saw him first and he jerked away from Amy like he’d been stung by a bee. 

“Uh, Ames,” he started, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder to deliver the bad news. “Don’t look, but your ex-boyfriend just walked in.” 

Ignoring his advice, Amy twisted haphazardly in her chair and, sure enough, Teddy was in the far corner of the bar with some friends; Amy recognized them as his fellow detectives from the eight-two. She wasn’t too surprised to see him – he’d always liked the pilsners at Shaw’s. It didn’t seem like he had seen Jake or Amy yet, which was probably for the best given their close proximity and Jake’s ever-present hand on Amy’s shoulder. 

As she watched him laughing with his friends, Amy found that she didn’t feel anything for him at all. She and Teddy had dated for almost a year but as she looked at him now, all she felt was relief. 

She turned back to Jake and her eyes immediately landed on his lips. She wondered what they would feel like on hers. 

“You okay, Amy?” Her eyes remained fixed on his mouth. 

“He’s a bad kisser.” 

“What?” He sounded startled. 

“Teddy. He’s a bad kisser. He didn’t know what to do with his tongue, but I bet you know what to do with yours, Jake.”

She glanced up at him through lidded eyes. His eyes were wide, jaw slightly ajar – she had never been quite this forward with him before. After a beat, he cleared his throat. It was sobering. “Okay, time to get you a cab.” 

They stared at each other for a moment before she nodded. The rest of the squad had already gone home, so he walked with her out of the bar, hand ghosting across the small of her back as they weaved through the crowd. He made sure she was settled in a cab and gave the driver her address before moving to shut the door. 

Amy stopped it before he could. “Thanks, Jake. And I’m sorry if I made things weird.”

He smiled, eyes crinkling. “Nothing to be sorry for, Santiago.” He closed the door and she watched him from the cab’s rear window as she drove away. 

They never spoke about that night again, but Amy discovered a few months later that Jake did, in fact, know how to use his tongue.


	2. "Happy New Year!"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jake and Amy's first New Year's Day together does not go as planned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt from @b99peraltiago on tumblr (Kufikiria on ao3)!

She wakes up on the first morning of 2016 with a violent shudder.

It’s bitterly cold in Jake’s apartment and she’s not wearing nearly enough layers to properly deal with it. She opens one bleary eye and glances at the time on the alarm clock: 8:05. She sighs forlornly; it’s way too early to be awake on New Year’s Day, even for her. It’s the one day she allows herself to sleep in each year since she’s usually had one too many drinks the night before. She only made it to Five Drink Amy last night, but she’s still feeling the aftereffects from the squad’s party at Shaw’s this morning nonetheless. As she sighs, she can see her breath roll from her mouth and flit through the air, which is how she knows that something is _horribly_ wrong.

She turns to her side and gently shakes a perfectly still and sleeping Jake. His mouth is hanging slightly open and he’s snoring, which he always denies he does, and she reminds herself to tease him about it later. “Babe, wake up. I think there’s something wrong with your heater.”

He jolts awake and mutters some gibberish, lazily wiping the sleep from his eyes. “What’s happening?” he asks groggily, voice thick.

“Jake, it’s so cold in here. Is your heat working?” She shivers to emphasize her point.

Jake throws off the heavy duvet (Amy bought it for him for Christmas, seeing it as a present for the both of them) and she can see how taken aback he is when the cold air hits his bare chest as he slowly climbs out of bed. Amy shrinks further into the blankets, willing the heat to magically start working. Not for the first time, she curses Jake’s run-down Cobblestink apartment. They’d only stayed there the night before because it’s so close to Shaw’s and neither of them wanted to navigate New Year’s Eve traffic. He’s lucky he makes her laugh.

“Woah,” he mutters, ambling over to his thermostat. He squints to read the temperature and fumbles with the buttons for a moment before stopping and turning to his girlfriend with a look that she can only describe as apologetic.

“So, there’s no heat,” he begins cautiously, bringing his hands up to his chest, almost as a defense mechanism. She narrows her eyes dangerously. “But let me call the super, I’m sure there’s a perfectly reasonable solution,” he says with his trademark Peralta optimism. As he goes out into the hallway to make the call in an area with better cell reception, Amy slides further under the covers and tries to shut out the chill, along with the headache that’s starting to catch up with her. 

A few minutes later, he joins her under the covers once again. She rolls over to face him. His nose is slightly pink from the cold and it’s unfairly cute. “What’s the verdict?” she asks hopefully.

He has the courtesy to look abashed, and she feels her heart seize with dread. “Well, the super says it’s probably broken but he won’t be able to get to it until tomorrow.” He wraps an arm around her waist and she instantly feels a little warmer. “I’m sorry, babe. We can go to your place, maybe. I’m sure it’s warmer there.”

She sighs and closes her eyes, nestling further into his embrace in pursuit of the heat he so easily emanates. He tightens his grip on her, pressing a gentle kiss to the crown of her head. “I’m _way_ too cold and hungover to move at the moment,” she murmurs into his neck. He shivers as her warm breath hits his skin and barks out a quiet laugh. “Ask me again in an hour.”

“Will do, Ames,” he says softly, pulling the duvet over their heads before closing his eyes. She follows suit, choosing to ignore how cold she is for the moment so she can appreciate the stillness of this moment.

Just as she’s beginning to drift back to sleep, Jake breaks the silence. “This may not be the best time to say this since you’re cold and miserable, but Happy New Year,” he says. She can hear the smile in his voice.

She cracks one hesitant eye open and sees the warmth in his eyes as he looks down at her. It’s hard to imagine that they were so far from this exactly one year ago. “Happy New Year, Jake,” she says, pressing a chaste kiss to his lips. They kissed as the clock struck midnight last night, but this one feels more remarkable somehow. “Now go back to sleep,” she demands sleepily.

“10-4,” he laughs.

Later, they’ll get dressed to brave the outside world (Amy in three thick sweaters, a coat and her hand-knit scarf and mittens; Jake in his signature layered hoodie and leather jacket combo) and make the trek back to the warmth of her apartment, stopping for hot chocolate at her favorite Polish place along the way. It’ll be the perfect end to the first day of the year. But for now, falling asleep with Jake in this frozen tundra he calls home is the only place she wants to be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cold and hungover Amy is a mood. Happy 2019, y'all! :)


	3. "You're cute when you're all worried."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jake overthinks his third date with Amy.

It’s not often that Jake is at a loss for words, but three days into a romantic relationship with Amy Santiago and he might as well be mute. 

It’s nearing the end of the work day. He would usually be elbow-deep in a case file by now but he’s antsy to leave the precinct today, his knee jiggling steadily as he watches the clock on the wall behind him. He has something, more like someone, to go home to now. 

Or, at least he _thinks_ he does. It’s only been three days, after all, and they don’t really know what this unnamed thing between them even is. Jake knows what he wants it to be, has known for a while now, but they haven’t talked about the future just yet. 

They went home together after their first date two days ago, but that had been a drunken decision – a great, life-changing drunken decision, but not intentional. And last night, Amy came to his place in a spontaneous romantic gesture after calling things off – which was _awesome_ and meant more than he could ever say, but also not intentional. He wants tonight, their third night, to be intentional. 

This is foreign territory for him. 

He’s always loved too hard, too fast, and it got him hurt one too many times in his 20s. He chose casual dating and one-night stands to full-on relationships until Sophia crashed into his life with her perfect, shiny hair and her love of hot wings, and he thought he’d give love another try. That had ended much the same way the others had, but it left him with the knowledge that he could do it again, for _realz_ , with the right person. 

It’s only been three days, but he has a feeling Amy could be that person for him. He just doesn’t want to jinx it yet by overstepping too soon and scaring her away. He wants this one to work out. His heart’s been invested too long for it to fall apart. 

The little hand on the clock is nearly at the 5 when Amy marches out of the interrogation room and over to their conjoined desks. 

Her neat bun has fallen over the course of the work day, leaving wispy little tendrils that frame her face perfectly. They make her look like an angel, but the thing Jake can’t seem to look away from is the smug grin she’s wearing. 

“Well, well, well, somebody looks pleased with herself,” he says, unable to stop himself from beaming at her. It seems his face muscles can’t control themselves around her any more than the rest of him can. 

“Oh yeah, got the confession in under an hour,” she says proudly, immediately sitting down at her desk to organize her case files. 

For once, he’s not quite sure what to say, so he watches her post-interrogation routine for a moment, just as he has a number of times over their many years as partners. What’s different tonight is the hopeful pang in his chest that only grows as he watches her fill out paperwork, taking her time as she carefully signs her name. He’s got to snap out of it or he’ll never get anything done in this precinct again, and he has his reputation as the greatest detective alive to protect. 

He waits until she finishes the ‘o’ in Santiago before speaking up so as to not startle her into ruining her forms. He’s made that mistake before. “So, dinner?” 

He hopes it sounds as casual as he meant it to, like he’s been taking Amy Santiago to dinner his entire life and tonight is just another Thursday night. 

She looks up from her work and smiles brightly. “Sure. What did you have in mind?”

He clears his throat and pretends to think hard, even though he knows exactly where to go. “How about that Italian place by your apartment? Or, you know, wherever,” he says, scratching his neck. He knows it’s one of her favorite neighborhood spots; she takes her brothers there every time they’re in town and he’s heard her rave about their panna cotta more times than he can count. 

Her eyebrows shoot up. “You want to go to Angelo's?” she asks, surprised. 

He nods, looking anywhere but at her. “Yeah, you know, you’ve talked about it a lot.”

She tilts her head and he finally looks her in the eye. “I have?” 

He smiles uncomfortably, feeling very vulnerable all of a sudden. “Yeah, you talk about it a lot actually.” 

She stares at him for a moment, probing him thoughtfully, before nodding slowly. “Okay, let’s go. I can finish my report in the morning.” 

His sigh of relief is lost among the sounds of Amy packing up her desk for the night. It’s not lost on him that she’s willing to postpone paperwork to go to dinner with him. 

She slings her sensible leather tote over her shoulder and looks expectantly at him. “Ready?” 

Jake just nods and they begin the short walk through the bullpen to the elevator. Once the doors close and it’s just the two of them for the first time all day, Amy moves to grab his dangling hand in hers, gently entwining their fingers. 

“You’re cute when you’re all worried,” she says softly. Her tone is teasing, but Jake can see that the tips of her ears have turned pink, so he’s glad he’s not the only one that’s been affected by all the upheaval of the last few days. 

He has a feeling this unnamed thing between them might not remain unnamed for much longer, and he can’t wait.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love Anxious!Jake with my whole heart. Thanks for reading!


	4. "You didn’t just wake me up at 2am because you were ‘in the mood’.”

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The night before her first day as sergeant, Amy thinks about her future.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For queen @fourdrinkamy <3

The sweat had barely begun to evaporate from their skin when Jake’s voice shattered their post-boink bliss.

“Is everything alright, Ames?” He sounded so careful, each word punctuated with a soft caress on her bare back.

She turned around in his arms to face him head-on. “I think I just proved to you that I’m more than alright,” she laughed. She moved to turn back around, relishing a rare night as the little spoon, when he stopped her with a gentle hand on her shoulder.

“Amy, I’m serious. You didn’t just wake me up at 2 am because you were ‘in the mood.’ Not that I’m complaining, but you hate disrupting your REM cycle, even for sexy times.” He gently kissed her forehead. “Talk to me.”

Amy sighed. The last few weeks had been such a rollercoaster of emotions for her. Since she’d learned of her promotion to sergeant, she had felt something different every day – excitement at finally achieving a long-held goal, fear of failure and the unknown, nostalgia for the job she’d be leaving behind. You name it, she _was_ it.

She had been open with Jake about most of the things she was feeling and he had been nothing but the supportive fiancé she had always known him to be. He was always ready with a back rub when she was so tense with panic and he had taken to leaving post-its filled with quotes from her favorite authors around the house to inspire her. But tomorrow was her first day as a real, official sergeant and she wasn’t sure any words could quiet the looming doubts in her mind tonight.

“I already know what you’re going to say,” she said, resigned.

“Try me,” he smirked.

She paused, considering him for a moment before deciding to push forward. Maybe his words of encouragement would actually do the trick.

“I’ve just been thinking a lot about my goals and the life calendar lately,” she started, looking down and absentmindedly twirling the engagement ring on her left hand. His eyes followed her movements for a brief moment before he trained them back on her with laser focus. “I’ve wanted to be a police captain for so long, ever since I was a little girl. But I’m afraid of what will happen if I get there and it’s not what I thought it would be. What if I was meant to stay a detective?”

She remembers the day she decided she wanted to be a captain in the NYPD so vividly: she was four years-old and her dad had let her wear his badge around the house, earning her the wrath and jealousy of most of her brothers. She had refused to take it off all day, wearing it through dinner and her nightly bath, only agreeing to take it off for bed when her mother bribed her with an extra chapter during story time. Amy couldn’t bear to think that her four-year-old self might have gotten it all wrong. 

She looked up at Jake and saw that he was lost in thought, still softly caressing her back. The steady sweeps of his thumb were surprisingly calming, and Amy felt her high anxiety levels start to dissipate, just a bit.

After a few quiet moments, he spoke. “I don’t think any of us are meant to stay the same forever, babe. I mean, look at me – I have a savings account now and I finally learned what fabric softener is for. People change, and that’s okay.”

It was simple, but it rang true. It was classic Peralta.

“That’s true,” she said, considering him thoughtfully.

He cracked a small smile, almost as if he knew he had her hooked. “Plus, being a captain doesn’t mean you can’t be a badass detective anymore. Captain Holt still gets out in the field all the time.”

Amy hated that she hadn’t thought of that first. If her mentor could still solve cases while leading the precinct to perfection, then she could too.

Amy smiled as the realization dawned on her, feeling the tension empty from her body for the first time in weeks. “You’re _so_ right. When did you get so wise?”

He beamed back at her before dotting her shoulder with a few light kisses. “I’ve always been _supes_ wise, Ames. Now let’s get some beauty rest. You have a big day tomorrow, Sarge.”

As Amy turned on her side to finally get some much-needed sleep, she knew that everything would be okay. Of course it would – she had Jake by her side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed this post-smut pillow talk! Get yourself a Jake Peralta.


	5. "You look pretty hot in plaid."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jake and Amy's relationship, as told by Gina Linetti. 
> 
> _Prompt from amez-santiago on tumblr!_

When Gina first returned to the nine-nine after her short-lived stint in PR, she assumed she would once again rule the office like an iron-fisted queen and life would resume as normal. 

However, in the three days she’s been back, she’s observed a new normal.

Her desk in front of the captain’s office has always been the perfect spot to survey the entire bullpen, a fact she used to relish. She knew where everyone was at all times and she could eavesdrop to her heart’s content. Now, unfortunately for Gina, her makeshift throne’s incredible vantage point now forces her to watch Jake and Amy attempt to flirt.

She’s not an idiot, she called this relationship years ago on her first day on the job. Even back then, you could’ve cut Jake and Amy’s sexual tension with one of Rosa’s secret desk swords. In the last couple of years, she’d noticed that dejection would wash over Jake’s eyes whenever Amy mentioned another guy. Gina remembered those same eyes from as far back as his crush on Jenny Gildenhorn in seventh grade, so she knew it was just a matter of time before he made a move on his partner. In all honesty, she wasn’t sure Amy was cool enough for Jake, but she trusted his gut instincts more than her own – and that spoke volumes.

Believing it possible is one thing, but seeing their relationship in action is something else entirely.

The first thing that’s changed, she’s noticed, is their morning routine. B.R. (Before Relationship), Amy would get to the precinct and settle in at her desk before anyone else had stepped off the elevator, including Gina. Jake, on the other hand, would stumble in a few minutes late with his daily bodega coffee and egg sandwich in hand. Nowadays, they arrived together more often than not at _exactly_ nine, which Gina’s sure is Amy’s doing. The Jake she grew up with wouldn’t be caught dead showing up on time anywhere; she taught him better than that.

The second thing that’s changed is the way they fight. Back B.R., Gina loved listening to them bicker – it was like having two Real Housewives at her beck and call every day. The fights were always over something incredibly stupid, yet they battled as if their lives depended on the outcome. Their fights are still stupid but they seem to be much more careful with their words now. Unfortunately for Gina, the arguments end pretty quickly and are sealed with an exchange of soft smiles from both. Vomit.

The third thing, and perhaps the worst thing of all, is that she knows they’re having sex now. She assumed it would happen one day but nothing could have prepared her for the harsh reality, much like Scott and Kourtney’s devastating break-up. She prefers to think of Amy as a celibate nun and Jake is as close to a little brother as she’ll ever have, so the idea of the two of them in a sexual relationship makes her want to leave the planet and never return. It doesn’t help that they’re both about as transparent as air. She’s caught them winking at each other multiple times, and when Four Drink Amy makes an appearance at Shaw’s nowadays, Jake is always quick to make an excuse for the two of them to leave the party early.

Today, though, they’re doing this new annoying thing where they keep periodically glancing up from their paperwork to grin at each other. When they catch each other’s eye, Jake whispers something to Amy, presumably thinking no one can hear him. He forgot about Gina’s supersonic hearing, honed by many years of eavesdropping. 

“Hey, should I wear that green button-down to dinner tonight?”

Gina is floored. Since when does _Jacob Peralta_ care about his appearance?

“I do love you in that shirt.” Gina can’t see her face but she’s sure Amy’s blushing by the tone of her voice. “But it’s just a casual dinner with my idiot brother at my apartment. Wear what makes you comfortable,” she whispers delicately.

“Are you sure? I don’t want to show up in my gross flannel and have him hate me forever for not making more of an effort.” Gina’s not sure she’s ever heard Jake’s voice this soft before. 

“I’m sure. My 22-year-old brother won’t care what you’re wearing, I promise. He’s just excited to get a free dinner and have something to gossip about at the next family dinner,” Amy laughs quietly. “Besides, you look pretty hot in plaid.”

Gina’s about to hurl into her trashcan when she sees Amy reach out across her desk and grab Jake’s hand, stroking his knuckles in soothing circles with her thumb. The tips of Jake’s ears turn a shocking pink, but Gina can tell he’s pleased by this surprise workplace PDA from the way he leans toward her, as if pulled by an invisible force. Gina can’t believe that Amy, of all people, is being so affectionate in the office; she’s a little impressed, though she’ll deny it if anyone asks.

“He’ll love you,” Amy whispers. It’s so quiet that Gina almost has to strain to hear it from across the room, but she knows Jake heard it loud and clear. He’s smiling now, all the worry that occupied his eyes just a second ago has been replaced by something like awe. 

“Thanks, Ames,” he says quietly, putting his hand on top of hers and squeezing gently.

Terry gets up from his desk, and they immediately withdraw from each other like they’ve been burned. They both turn back to their computers, biding their time until their boss is gone. Gina pretends to look at her phone as she watches them out of her periphery.

“So, you’re into the plaid, Santiago?” Jake whispers, grinning like he’s up to no good, just the way Gina remembers from their childhood. “It must have driven you crazy all these years, sitting across from all of _this_.” He gestures at himself dramatically.

“Shut up, Peralta,” Amy responds, forgetting to whisper as she chucks a pen at him.

Well, at least some things haven’t changed. Gina sighs and goes back to scrolling through Twitter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Basically only wrote this so I could reference Jake's iconic green button-down shirt.


	6. “You haven’t even touched your food. What’s going on?”

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shaken by Jake’s parking lot confession, Amy attempts to get through dinner with Teddy. 
> 
> _Prompt from @startofamoment!_

She aimlessly pushes the over-sauced noodles around her plate with her fork, just as she’d done uninterrupted for the last ten minutes.

She should be ecstatic tonight – she’s on a much-needed date with her boyfriend, she’s wearing her favorite red cocktail dress and she’s drinking a glass of wine from a bottle that definitely cost more than eight dollars – but something is off, and it’s not the sub-par spaghetti that Teddy ordered for them at this tiny Italian restaurant.

If only her stupid partner hadn’t dropped a bomb on her and disappeared into the night, knowing they wouldn’t have any contact for six months. It’s officially the dumbest thing Jake has ever done, and she once saw him try to grill a panini with a clothing iron.

She should be _fuming_ – he hadn’t given her a second to process or respond to such life-changing words – but she’s not, and she can’t figure out why. He’s made her mad nearly every day they’ve known each other, yet she can’t be anything other than worried for him.

Jake, the man whose boyish grin has greeted her from across her desk every day for three years, is somewhere in New York City getting drunk with actual mobsters right now. For all he talks about his action hero dreams, she knows how soft he really is. He’s the kind of guy who will tell graphic stories about his one-night stands to anyone who will listen and, on the same day, bring soup to his sick mother. It’s that side of him that stops her from breaking out her baton every time he makes a stupid sex-tape joke at her expense. She knows who he really is.

And now, he’s going to be in constant danger for the next six months.

And he _likes_ her.

“Are you okay, Amy? You haven’t even touched your food. What’s going on?”

She looks up from her full plate to find Teddy staring at her, sympathy and concern swirling in his kind eyes. She mentally berates herself for not giving him the attention he deserves as she thinks about another man.

Their two-month relationship has been pretty perfect so far. He’s considerate and thoughtful, and they have a lot in common, even if he does talk about pilsners more than she cares for.

She offers him a remorseful smile, which he returns. She feels guilt sear through her chest like molten lava. “I’m fine. It was just a tough day, that’s all.”

She sticks a pile of noodles onto her fork and is about to finally take a bite when Teddy interrupts.

“Do you want to talk about it? That’s the benefit of dating a cop, right? I understand what you go through on a daily basis.” His expression is so earnest. She wants to run out of the restaurant and never return.

She sighs, setting down her fork. The guilt soars further into her gut, and she knows the only way to rid herself of the toxicity is to get it out into the open.

“Today was Jake’s disciplinary hearing. He got fired.” Saying it out loud is like ripping off a Band-Aid – it happens so fast and all she’s left with in its wake is a shooting pain.

If Teddy is surprised, he hides it well. He moves to cover her hand, sitting idly on the cloth-covered table, with his own. “I’m sorry, honey. I know he was your friend.”

“And he told me that he likes me.”

His hand retracts so fast, she can practically hear it move through the air. “He what?”

“Well, he didn’t really say it in those words. It was more like he wished something would happen between us, romantic-stylez,” she blurts frantically, moving to gulp her fancy wine. It burns her throat going down.

“Romantic-stylez?” Teddy splutters.

“You probably don’t know him well enough, but that’s very on-brand for him,” she says, chuckling awkwardly. She instantly regrets it.

Teddy is silent for a moment, lost in thought as he sips his pilsner. Amy watches him, arms crossed in front of her torso, at a complete loss for what to do with her hands.

“What did you say when he told you?” He’s looking at her with a guarded expression. She can usually read him so well, but she suspects he’s breaking out his finely-honed detective skills to get to the bottom of a very convoluted situation, as he would in any perp interrogation.

“I didn’t say anything,” she responds quietly, eyes fixed on a stain on the tablecloth as she relives the moment. “He walked away before I could.”

“What would you have said if he hadn’t walked away?”

She pauses. She remembers opening her mouth as Jake retreated with his box of desk toys, but she has no idea what she had hoped to say.

“I don’t know,” she says truthfully, shrugging her shoulders helplessly.

Teddy sighs and wipes his mouth with the cloth napkin sitting in his lap. Jake probably didn’t know he needed to put his napkin in his lap at a fancy restaurant. She wonders if the FBI will give him some etiquette tips before he has to dine with the Ianuccis. She feels a slight pang in her chest at the thought.

“What does that mean, Amy? Do you like Jake?”

There it is. The question she’d been asking herself for the last two hours since she’d finally left the precinct parking lot. She doesn’t have any more clarity now than she did then. 

She’s seen a shift in her partner in the last year, a new maturity that she attributes to Captain Holt’s arrival. She can’t pretend she doesn’t find him attractive or that his goofy smile isn’t completely magnetic, but she’s nearly thirty-one years old and _magnetic_ can’t be the only thing she looks for in a man anymore.

“I don’t know,” she says, and she can see Teddy’s spirit plummet. “I think – I think that maybe I’m confused?” She hates that it’s all she can offer him.

He pauses, playing with a loose thread in the tablecloth. “What do you want to do?”

She takes a deep breath, letting it out slowly the way she would cigarette smoke. She could really use a puff or two right now.

“I think I need some time. Some time to think,” she stutters, eyes pleading. She hopes Teddy understands that it’s not about him, that it’s about her.

He nods twice, slowly. “Okay. I’ll call you tomorrow, if you want.”

She nods. “Thanks, Teddy. I’m _so_ sorry.”

He nods again, averting his eyes, and throws a few bills on the table to pay for their half-eaten dinner before walking out of the restaurant. 

It’s the second time she’s been left alone with her thoughts tonight, but this time, all she feels is relief.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhh I never write angst but I really like how this turned out? Let me know what you think! Also, rip season one tedford.


	7. "I let you win."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jake finally lets Amy in on a secret: she didn't actually win Jimmy Jabs.

It’s just like any other night in the Peralta-Santiago household.

Amy’s face is freshly washed and she’s just put her glasses on to read the newspaper when a pajama-clad Jake walks in with two steaming mugs – chamomile for her, hot chocolate with extra marshmallows for him.

“I can’t believe I married the only person on Earth who still reads a physical newspaper,” he teases, setting her mug on the coaster she keeps on her nightstand before moving to his side of the bed and doing the same with his. He takes a long sip as he gets under the covers to make himself comfortable.

She smiles and rolls her eyes simultaneously, just as she does every night when he makes the same joke. It’s corny, but it never seems to get old.

“We’ve been through this, babe,” she says with loving exasperation, moving to take a sip of her tea. “The crossword puzzle just isn’t the same on the _New York Times_ app.”

He chuckles, pulling his phone off its charger to scroll through Instagram for the final time that day. Gina would kill him if he weren’t up to date on her adventures at all times.

A pleasant silence follows. It’s the kind of warmth and comfort he always craved. It’s worlds away from the chaos and commotion that defined his childhood. He never thought happiness would mean being in bed at 10 PM on a Friday night with the woman he loves.

He’s just double-tapping a picture of Iggy and Gina at the park when his wife speaks.

“It looks like the president will be in our precinct tomorrow for a fundraiser,” she says thoughtfully. “I wonder if we’ll have to be on motorcade duty.”

He turns to look at her, only to find her eyes already boring into his fiercely. It’s the same look she’s given him before every Halloween heist and his sense of competition is immediately ignited. 

“Jimmy Jabs 2019?” he asks, right eyebrow raised in challenge.

“It’s on,” she practically snarls. Her bloodthirsty tone gets Jake’s adrenaline pumping and warms his heart all at once. She really is his dream girl. 

“Are you sure you can play now that you’re a sergeant? You saw how Holt and Terry reacted last time. They were _not_ happy. That’s still the most emoting I’ve ever seen Holt do.”

She falters for a moment, never one to put her position of authority in any kind of jeopardy, before barreling forward confidently. “You can’t stop me, _Jacob_. My beat cops will be out on assignment for most of the day anyway.” Her eyes flash dangerously, and he has to physically stop his smile muscles from curling upwards. “You’re probably just worried that I’ll beat you again. Because I will.”

“Ames, I let you win last time.”

The words slip out without a second thought, falling from his tongue like an avalanche he just can’t stop.

As soon as he’s finished speaking, his eyes widen, as if he’s surprised by the sound of his own voice. He’d almost forgotten about how the last Jimmy Jab Games ended. He and Amy were in such a different place back then; that version of Jake would not believe that he’d be married to Amy in five years’ time. It hits him that this is probably the last long-held secret he’s kept from his wife, and now it’s finally out in the open. 

But she’s not buying it. 

“Psshh, you did _not_.” She waves him off, returning to her newspaper. “I beat you like an egg.”

Jake smiles affectionately. Her trash talk has not improved, despite his many lessons and critiques.

He grabs her hand and she looks up from the paper, intrigued and apprehensive; he always grabs her hand when he’s being serious. 

“I’m really sorry, babe, but it’s true.” He sighs, scratching the back of his neck with the hand not currently intertwined with Amy’s. “I spent most of that day trying to prove to Rosa that I was over you but when we were on the last event and racing to the elevator, I kept pressing the button to keep the doors open so you could catch up to me. I didn’t even think about it. I knew how happy it would make you to finally win.”

She’s silent throughout his confession and when he looks back at her, he can see her eyes glistening, reflecting the dimly lit lamp on his nightstand.

“I can’t believe you never told me,” she says softly. “Jake, you _love_ winning. I once overheard you telling Gary that ‘winning’ was your middle name.”

“Oh, I do, which is why I’m going to beat the crap out of you tomorrow. But I guess I like you a little more.” He shrugs.

Amy nods and smiles brightly, looking a little dazed. “I guess I like you a little more, too.”

She brushes her thumb over his cheek and brings him down to kiss her. When they break apart, her eyes narrow again and, this time, Jake doesn’t try to stop his smile muscles from working.

“Don’t you _dare_ let me win anything ever again. Got it?”

“Sure thing, Sarge,” he says with a wink.

She doesn’t finish the crossword puzzle that night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Competition makes them horny. Facts only.


	8. "Quit touching me. Your feet are cold."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The night of his real-life Die Hard experience, Jake has a surprise for perpetually cold Amy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt from anonymous on tumblr!

It’s not the coldest night of the year, not by a long shot, but Amy would swear on her prized Oxford English Dictionary that it is. Her toes feel like they might fall off at the slightest touch.

It’s been a rough night, to say the least. The anxiety and trepidation surrounding the polar plunge mixed with the sheer terror of her boyfriend’s near-death experience has left her completely drained. When she and Jake finally reached his loft after leaving the department store (and ensuring he didn’t have a massive concussion), they immediately changed into their softest pajamas and got right into bed to sleep off the emotion of the day.

As relieved as she is that Jake survived his time as a hostage with a bump on his head the only souvenir, she wholeheartedly regrets her decision to let him be the little spoon as she feels a shiver courses involuntarily down her spine. Desperate to warm her body, she tightens her hold around her sleeping boyfriend – a living, breathing furnace – and starts to entwine her feet with his.

“Quit touching me, Ames,” he wines; feeling her freezing toes on his scorching skin must have jolted him from sleep. “Your feet are cold.”

“I’m sorry, babe. I can’t help it,” she says through chattering teeth. “I’m freezing.”

He rolls over in her arms to look at her skeptically. She’s wearing the thick flannel pajama pants she’s taken to keeping in his drawer for the winter, one of his old fleece hoodies and, under that, he knows she’s wearing a long-sleeved t-shirt he’s held onto since his days in the police academy. The heat is also set to 80 degrees, which Amy knows is purely for her benefit. Jake rants to her about the criminally high price of utilities in New York at least once a week, so the fact that it’s even blasting at all is one of the biggest romantic gestures he could possible make for her.

He looks down at her attire before looking her in the eye and raising his eyebrows pointedly.

She sighs and flicks him on the shoulder. “I already know. You don’t have to say it.”

He presses a gentle kiss to her nose, exasperated and awed all at once. “Lucky for you, I have a solution.”

He extricates himself from her fleece-covered arms and she watches as he stumbles out of bed and over to his rickety wooden dresser. He opens the top drawer and pulls out a thick bundle. She can’t quite make out what it is in the dark, but it looks like a small lump. He walks over to Amy’s side of the bed, where she’s sitting up and watching with no small amount of amusement and curiosity, and presents the mystery item proudly.

“Voila!” he exclaims before wincing. “Forget I said that.” He moves to sit down on the bed next to her, placing the package in her lap.

She laughs and grabs her glasses from the nightstand, jamming them on her face so she can see what he’s brought her. As her blurry vision comes into focus, she can see that he’s holding the coziest-looking white woolen socks she’s ever seen. The price tag still hangs from the packaging, which means they were freshly purchased as a surprise for her.

She looks up and, even though it’s the middle of the night and his apartment is practically pitch-black, she swears his smile is blinding. But it’s also a little reserved, and she’s pretty sure that’s not because of the headache he’s bound to have in the morning.

She takes the socks from him and rips into the packaging. In less than a minute, the socks are snugly on her feet and she feels warmer than she has all day. She looks up at him when she’s finished and smiles softly.

“Much better, thank you,” she says, cupping his face with her hands and sweeping her thumb gently across his cheek. He closes his eyes and leans into her touch and she feels her heart constrict pleasantly in her chest. “I can’t believe you almost _died_ today and you’re taking care of me.”

He shrugs and moves to scratch the back of his neck awkwardly – a tell-tale sign of vulnerability. “They were on sale on Amazon and I remembered the other day when you said your feet are usually the first part of your body to get cold. It was an impulse buy, I guess.”

She smiles softly, bringing her arm down to hook around his shoulders. “This is the only time you’ll ever hear me say this, but I’m really glad you have a crippling spending addiction.”

He doesn’t say a word, just kisses her firmly. He smiles as he pulls away, eyes crinkling around the corners. “Alright, now get to bed, you horn dog.”

Amy rolls her eyes, but acquiesces, pulling him close as he gets back under the covers. “For the record, _you_ kissed _me_ , you horn dog.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just trying to celebrate Jan. 6, aka our new national holiday.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments/kudos give me life. Come yell with me on tumblr @santiagoswagger!


End file.
